A dozen flashbulbs exploded around her. She looked right between them all and found Sam’s bemused face and smiled at him, so that all those photos that appeared that very day in the afternoon and evening editions showed a cheerful, happy face framed by a leather aviator’s cap, far more pretty than anybody expected. Underneath these photos, Miss Foster was quoted variously about how excited she was to travel across the ocean, how impressed she was with Mr. Mallory’s skill and tenacity as a pilot, how eager she was to prove herself, how proud to represent the ambitions and capability of women everywhere. Just about everybody reading a newspaper that evening or the next morning thought that Sam Mallory was either the luckiest man alive or else the unluckiest, depending on his or her opinion of the sanctity of marriage.

When Irene was done answering the questions of the reporters, Irene made her way to Sam Mallory and his wife. Mrs. Mallory smelled of some delicate, floral perfume that Irene didn’t recognize. Sam said, “Irene, I’d like to present to you my wife, Bertha. She wanted to join us here at the airfield today to see what the fuss is all about.”

This introduction was clearly meant for the reporters clustered about, taking down every word. Irene took Mrs. Mallory’s hand and said, “I’m so pleased to meet you at last, Mrs. Mallory. You must be awfully proud of Sam.”

“I am.” Mrs. Mallory squeezed Irene’s hand, just tight enough. She stared into the space between Irene’s eyes. “My goodness, aren’t you the prettiest thing! Sam, isn’t she just lovely?”

The reporters laughed. Sam said gallantly, “Not only lovely, but a fine pilot and navigator. Miss Foster has the coolest nerves you’ve ever met.”

“I can see that.” Mrs. Mallory released Irene’s hand. “Of course, I have every faith she won’t need them, not with Sam Mallory at the controls.”

“We’ll be flying eight thousand miles across the open ocean next week,” said Irene. “I naturally expect every hazard to come our way. But I am confident we will overcome the difficulties of such a challenging voyage and prove to the world what modern aviation is capable of.”

The reporters nodded and scribbled in their notebooks.

“You can see why I feel so fortunate to have Miss Foster as my flying mate,” said Sam. “Having her aboard is no publicity stunt, gentlemen. You won’t find a better partner for a trip like this one, man or woman. What she lacks in experience, she makes up for in courage, natural skill, and the instincts of a born pilot.”